


Broadening Horizons

by icarusinflight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Podfic, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes, podfic availalable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-22 10:44:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15580206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarusinflight/pseuds/icarusinflight
Summary: A secret-spelling game (helped by alcohol and a potion) reveals a side of Remus that Sirius would never, ever have suspected. Shameless PWP smut.





	Broadening Horizons

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Pod Together for giving us this opportunity, and thank you icarsuinflight for being so, so very sweet! <3

Also available for download [here - MP3 (23.31| 32.3MB](http://www.mediafire.com/file/khsihfc3glexhdc/broadening+horizons_bastardsirius_icarusinflight.mp3)

With only one question left each, and about ten minutes on the guesstimated clock, they take a bit more time to discuss them. Remus and Sirius decide that their final question to James will be about how much he practiced, really, at home, when it comes to Quidditch. When he’d first started playing, he’d claimed it was all natural talent.

 

James reluctantly admits that while the flying came completely natural, his reflexes needed work, and he’d spent the summer before Quidditch try-outs practicing for hours every day at the Potters’ property with his father. Sirius’ final question is a bit more difficult to decide, because anything Sirius isn’t loud and proud about, James already knows. In the end they decide to ask him how long his cock is, because he often makes jokes about its size.

 

“I haven’t measured it,” Sirius hisses, “Merlin’s sake…” Then, he snickers. “Wanna see?”

 

James makes a face. “No, thanks. You could measure it now, though, in the loo.” Remus is quiet.

 

Sirius opts to stay in the dormitory, but is polite enough to turn away from his friends while he rubs himself to get Junior in the mood. He’s not going to give them his half-hard length now, is he? As he thinks that, he wonders how long he’s been half-hard. He hadn’t even noticed. Thankfully, he’s seventeen, and it doesn’t take long to get Junior’s full attention. He tells the number he reads on the charmed ruler to his friends, neither of which comment. James tilts his head a bit, then moves his hands as if trying to guess how long that would be, and Remus looks similarly confused.

 

“I mean,” Remus says reluctantly, “I’ve never measured it either, so I suppose it was kind of pointless to ask.”

 

“Your problem,” Sirius responds happily. Now that both Sirius and James are off the hook, it’s time to ask Remus’ last - and lethal - question. “So,” he drawls, “What’s the most imaginative sex thing you’d do to either one of us?”

 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. “Sex thing?”

 

“Think he means sex act, and you only get to pick one of us,” James says, helpfully.

 

Remus blinks a few times, eyebrows still raised, and looks between his two friends. “Sirius,” he says without much thought, “If I had to pick. And…” Now he looks at Sirius, and there’s something almost predatory about the look he gives him. “Probably the kinkiest thing he could handle would be to let me fuck him on his motorcycle.”

 

Sirius is speechless. Doesn’t happen often, but he is now. He can’t tell how how much of - whatever he’s feeling - is due to the potion.

 

James clears his throat. “Two minutes left,” he says, pointing at the colorful numbers floating by the window, their impromptu counter. “Anybody want to not be staring at each other when the potion’s effect runs out? I think it might already be dwindling because I’m quite certain I want to stop thinking about my two mates shagging on a motorbike. Immediately.” Without waiting for an answer, James gets onto his bed, shuts the curtains and starts casting privacy charms.

 

It’s an odd feeling, the potion’s effects leaving. Sirius doesn’t feel unhappy, exactly, but his grin drops to a more neutral expression, as does Remus’. They both look around, unsure what to do or say.

 

“Bloody hell, now that was an experience,” Sirius says.

 

“Right.”

 

“Can’t believe you want to shag me on the bike.” He snickers as Remus’ face flushes again, and the werewolf mutters under his breath. “Knew you loved her. You protested too much, is what gave you away.”

 

“Maybe let’s not talk about this?”

 

Remus’ embarrassment gives Sirius the little encouragement he needs, and he follows Remus as he gets into his four-poster.

 

“Er, Sirius?” Remus asks. “What’re you doing? This is my bed.”

 

“Thought we could keep talking,” Sirius says in a deep voice, glad he’s not too drunk to put on the good ol’ Sirius Black charm. He’ll need them more than he ever has. Getting Moony to open up won’t be as easy as getting out of detention.

 

“About…?” Remus gets under the covers as he is, still in his day clothes.

 

“All those things you claim you’d do to me.”

 

“I said one thing,” Remus grits out, but he doesn’t look angry, just embarrassed. Also, he’s not denying thinking them…

 

“So Moony, tell me, if you had a mate you just happened to be fucking, no strings attached… What would you do to them?”

 

“Are you— Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” Remus asks, eyes wide as saucers.

 

Sirius takes off his shirt, and gets under the covers as well, despite Remus’ rather vocal protests (“What are you doing Padfoot? This is _my_ _bed!”)._ “I think, Moony, we need to broaden your horizons.”

 

“And as I keep telling you, they don’t need broadening, certainly not by you. By definition, I’d need to learn something from the person broadening my horizons.”

 

“You think  _ you _ can broaden  _ my _ horizons?” Sirius says, barking out a laugh.

 

“You couldn’t even think of half the things I think of,” Remus shoots back, glaring.

 

“And those… things… that you think of… You’d do them, with me?”

 

“The question was about having to pick between you and James,” Remus says evasively.

 

“Right, and it took you all of a second to say you wanted me. And the motorcycle as well— A little too specific to be about Jamie, don’t you think?” Sirius hadn’t thought about Remus wanting him before, but now that he thinks it, it’s clear as day.

 

“And you’re offering what exactly?” Remus looks like a cautious hippogriff.

 

“To do whatever it is that you can think of. Give it a go, if you will, for your ever-so-broad horizon and what it entails.” Remus’ lips move, but he doesn’t say anything, so Sirius continues. “Can’t do the bike thing yet, of course, she’s still with the Potters, but I’m sure you can think of one or two other things you want to try with me.”

 

Remus looks away.

 

“Unless, of course, anything you can think of is so boring that it won’t be worth my time.”

 

That works. Remus’ eyes snap back onto him, and he glares. “Told you, Black, if anything, you are the boring one.”

 

“Prove it. Tell me what you think of.” A challenge is, so often, the way to get Remus to do whatever you want. Either that, or call him a wet blanket, and he’ll agree to the most outrageous plans. A true Marauder.

 

“And we’ll do them?” Remus asks. He’s still cautious, but his expression is more open. Sirius has got him. They’re going to do this. After years of not knowing if he’d ever get to touch Remus’ freckles, now Sirius knows that he will. Even if Remus’ ideas are boring, Sirius can make them exciting.

 

“Sure. Let’s make a list.”

 

“How many are we going for?” Remus asks, as he draws up a parchment, and grabs a quill from his bedside table. Sirius tries not to focus on the fact that their knees are touching now.

 

“We’re actually going to— Alright. Well. However many you can think of, I suppose.” He really wishes he could see Remus more clearly. The four-poster - the whole room, really - needs to stop spinning. Seems like the polite thing to do, really.  _ Rude room. _

 

When Remus laughs, it’s not a drunken giggle, but a deep, meaningful chuckle. “Padfoot, trust me, you want to set a limit.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that would normally excite Sirius, but now it evokes confusion.

 

“Fine,” Sirius says, rising up to the challenge. “How about ten?” He smirks, satisfied with himself. Remus looks thoughtful, and Sirius can practically see his brain working, trying to come up with them.

 

“Well,” Remus starts, then hesitates. The pleasant hum of alcohol in Sirius’ veins gives him to patience to wait. “How about I write down ten, and you pick five?”

 

“You’ve got it, Professor,” Sirius responds.

 

That’s the last thing Sirius remembers from that night.

 

He wakes up - fully clothed, on the floor - just in time to catch breakfast. While brushing his teeth after a quick piss, he remembers the list he and Remus talked about, and goes to Remus’ empty bed to see if he can find it. Sure enough, it’s there, folded into two, next to Remus’ pillow. Remus’ neat handwriting is deceptively innocent, given the content. The only thing out of place is the fact that the lines aren’t straight, but that isn’t surprising seeing as how they’d both been drinking.

 

  1. Riding
  2. Spanking
  3. Denial
  4. Fisting
  5. Gangbang
  6. Marking
  7. Felching
  8. Padfoot
  9. Bondage
  10. Crying



 

What on earth has Remus been  _ up  _ to? There’re words there that Sirius doesn’t even know the meaning of. He simply balks, reading the list again and again. He needs to talk to Remus about this. Soon. His stomach grumbles. After breakfast, he decides, and puts on his clothes before heading down to the hall.

 

* * *

 

It takes a while. First, Remus pretends to not know what Sirius is talking about. Then, he pretends Sirius is pranking him. Finally, when Remus concedes that yes he may have written up the list, Sirius almost lets out a whoop of joy. They’re sitting by the lake. Alone, because dinner’s just started and everybody’s run off to eat, in a rush.

 

“Yes, fine,” Remus sighs, looking everywhere but Sirius. “We were pissed, I wrote up an idiotic list. Happy now?”

 

“Will be happier once we get to it,” Sirius says happily, grinning from ear to ear. Merlin, the things they’re going to do…

 

Remus blinks owlishly at him a few times. “What d’you mean?”

 

“Well, you want to, you know…” He gestures…something in the air with his hands. His right hand may have been doing a wanking motion? He’s not sure, but from Remus’ blush, Sirius knows that his meaning was clear. “And I’m noble and gracious enough to help a mate out.”

 

After a few beats of silence, Remus laughs. It’s a weak laugh, and Remus’ eyebrows are furrowed, but it’s a laugh nevertheless. “Stop it, Padfoot,” he says, unsure.

 

“No, really, let’s do it. Check things off of your list.” Sirius gets up, and gets down onto his knees, his legs on either side of Remus. Remus, who was staring at him as if he’d gone round the bend. Remus, whose cheeks are flushed in a way that doesn’t suit the young man who’d written those filthy things for Sirius to pick and choose from, just a few days ago. The person who’d asked for “felching” - and yes, of course Sirius had found out what it was, he’d had to - shouldn’t get to look so innocent.

 

Sirius is ready to fight further, to make his case by potentially taking his robes off, although it  _ is  _ rather cold. But Remus doesn’t need convincing. Sirius knows it the moment he sees Remus’ expression turn determined. Remus’ eyes are hungry when he says, quietly: “Yeah.”

 

Once they’ve decided, it’s surprisingly easy to communicate. They don’t even need words to know where they’re headed, when they get up. When they reach the Room of Requirement, Sirius expects to see whips and chains, the sorts of things one imagines would be in a sex dungeon, but instead the room has turned into a rather small bedroom, with one king size bed in the middle. There’s even night stands, for Merlin’s sake.

 

“Suppose,” Remus starts, eyes darting between the bed and Sirius’ chest. “S’pose we should kiss first.”

 

Sirius gives Remus a curious look. Remus is acting embarrassed again. “Look,” he says slowly, and turns his body towards Remus. “This’ll be as fun as we let it be. So how about we decide what number we’re going for, get on the bed, and see what happens?” He flashes Remus a winning grin.  _ That oughta do it. _

 

“Right.” Remus smiles back. “Right.” He looks towards Sirius’ robe’s pockets. “You have the list, then?”

 

“What, you don’t have it memorized, you pervert?” Sirius asks dryly, taking out the parchment from his pocket all the same.

 

“I— Ah, I’m not sure which ones I’ve put there.” He chews on the corner of his lower lip a little, and walks to the bed to avoid looking at Sirius.

 

_ How have I never noticed how adorable he is when he’s embarrassed?  _ Sirius wonders. When Remus shoots him an expectant look from the bed, he gets on it quickly. They’re both sitting with their backs to the wall, and Sirius holds out the list for them to read. And they do, in silence.

 

After about a minute, the silence has got awkward and Sirius  _ really  _ needs to get out of his clothes, so he turns to his friend to see what Remus is thinking. Remus is looking at the list, the same determination in his eyes as before, and a touch of confusion, as if he’s trying to work out a riddle.

 

Just when Sirius opens his mouth to speak, Remus beats him to it: “Number one, I think,” he says softly. “Start slow.”

 

“Is this… Are these things you’ve done before, Moony? Or just, y’know, fantasies?”

 

Remus looks him in the eyes. His face and neck -  _ and even ears, Merlin _ \- are still flushed, but his gaze is steady. “Some of them.”

 

“Number one?”

 

Remus grins at that. “Yeah.” He looks away, but not in shame. His grin gets wider, presumably as memories flash before his eyes. “Yeah,” he repeats.

 

“And you like number one?”

 

“Mmm,” Remus hums in agreement, looking back at Sirius.

 

“Do you— I mean— Blimey, it feels odd to be talking about this. Normally, things just tend to… Happen.”

 

“Yes, well. We’re not doing a normal thing, are we?” He gives Sirius another smile, but a small one.

 

“When do we ever?” Sirius asks with a barked out laugh. “In any case, I was ’bout to ask— Were you the one, ah, ‘riding’, or…?”

 

Remus looks thoughtful again, but in a good way, as if he’s trying to pick which dessert to go for after dinner. “Both, actually,” he says. “Any preference?”

 

“You know I’m a lazy dog.” Sirius gets the laugh he’d been going for out of Remus.

 

“Alright then,” Remus says slowly. “Could do with less clothing, you think?” His eyes scan over Sirius’ body with appreciation as he undresses. When Sirius down to his pants, Remus has barely taken off his scarf.

 

_ So that’s what they mean when they say ‘fuck somebody with your eyes’,  _ Sirius thinks, as Remus stares at him hungrily.

 

“Lie back.” Remus’ voice is soft, but controlled. He sounds like a kind master, Sirius thinks, then as soon as the thought forms, he’s shocked.  _ What?  _ he thinks. Why’s he thinking like— Even Remus’ debauched list didn’t have anything like  _ that  _ in there.  _ Well,  _ a traitorous voice says in his head,  _ It did have bondage. _

 

Before he can get over the thought of leather and metal bonds, his brain jumps to another thought that has been on his mind near-constantly for a day now, since he’s found out what it means:  _ And felching. He wants to… Merlin, he wants to suck… Fuck.  _ He can’t think straight, but it doesn’t seem to matter to Remus who’s too busy devouring Sirius with his eyes to notice the pained expression on his face.

 

“Like what you see, Moony?”

 

“Fuck yes,” Remus all-but-growls, and gets on top of Sirius. He looks down at Sirius, and Sirius can feel his breath on his face. Somehow, it’s not uncomfortable. He stays still - as still as he can - while Remus stares at him. His lips, to be exact. “May I—” Remus glances down at Sirius’ body.

 

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, because Sirius’ brain and mouth have a disconnect and words start spilling out of his mouth. He doesn’t know when the atmosphere has changed, but it has. His heart’s beating fast, and they’re both breathing heavily.

 

“Yes, please, anything,” Sirius says, and finds that he means it. He didn’t even know that he’d wanted Remus quite this much, but apparently he does. He wants to do everything with Remus.  _ We’ll cross of that whole list,  _ he thinks idly, as Remus licks and nibbles at his neck,  _ Sirius Black doesn’t do things by halves. ‘Pick five’ my arse. _

 

Sirius loses all sense of time as they snog and their hands grab at whatever they can reach. It feels slow and fast at the same time, and Sirius doesn’t question it. Somehow, they manage to spend a decent while before their cocks brush against each other. When they do, Sirius’ eyes open, and he makes a noise that’s not quite a grunt. Remus pulls back, just a little, and shifts his weight so that he’s still above Sirius but carrying most of his own weight. Remus grins at Sirius as they both catch their breath. Sirius looks down and sees Remus’ cock barely brushing his. It’s red, and shining a little with precome.

 

He squeezes his eyes shut.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

He’s not a slag, despite James’ snide remarks, but he’s no blushing virgin either. He’s seen a naked boy before. Hell, he’s seen Remus naked before, too. But never like this. Never panting, and with his lips - and cock - swollen, all for Sirius. All Sirius has to do is reach for some lube, and get to it.

 

_ I can’t. _

 

“Remus, I…” he says, then lets his voice trail off.

 

“Are you OK?” Remus asks, and the worry in his tone almost - almost - makes Sirius open his eyes.

 

“The— Er— I—” he mumbles, trying to find the words. “Maybe we should switch.”  _ Yes,  _ he thinks,  _ Good idea. Good idea.  _ He takes deep breaths, and keeps his eyes squeezed shut.

 

“Padfoot,” Remus says softly, then nudges Sirius’ cheek with his nose. “What’s wrong?”

 

Sirius can’t open his eyes. Well, he can, but he knows he can’t look Moony in the eyes and lie, especially not when the truth is so apparent. “I don’t— It’s a better idea for you to— We should switch.”  _ Merlin  _ he can feel his cock throb and they haven’t even  _ done  _ anything.

 

Remus is quiet for a few long moments, and Sirius starts reciting Transfiguration formulas in his head.  _ The intended Transfiguration is inversely proportional to body weight and viciousness.  _

 

“It’s ok, Sirius,” Remus says softly, but Sirius only half-hears him.

 

_ It’s directly proportional to wand power, and concentration. _

 

“We’ll go slow,” Remus continues, and Sirius wants to open his eyes just so he can glare at Remus, but stops himself.

 

_ There are several spells that do not follow the formulas, but they’re almost exclusively reversal spells, meant to return objects or beings to their original forms, such as the Animagus Reversal Spell. _

 

“Padfoot?” Remus sounds worried now, and damn it if Sirius could be any angrier at his body, he would be.

 

“It’s fine. Just… It’s fine. Continue.” Sirius spits out the words one by one, willing his face not to reveal too much of the embarrassment that he’s feeling.

 

Remus snorts.

 

_ So much for that piece of wishful thinking,  _ Sirius thinks glumly. Before he can open his mouth to make an irritated comment, something warm and slippery touches his cock.  _ Fuck— Merlin— Dragon’s balls— _

 

Somehow - nothing short of a miracle - Sirius doesn’t come when Remus starts lowering himself and  _ oh Merlin and Circe that’s— It—  _

 

“Remus,” Sirius whispers out, eyes still shut. Remus doesn’t respond, but either senses Sirius’ condition, or needs time to get used to the sensation himself, because neither of them moves for a while.

 

“Open your eyes,” Remus says softly. Although Sirius had been fighting it with gritted teeth until then, he finds it easy to open his eyes and look at Remus, now.

 

Remus is smiling down at him serenely, as if they’re not in the middle of a shag. After a few beats, Sirius shifts a little, mostly because his right bum-cheek seems caught on the sheets in an uncomfortable way. As soon as he does, Remus grunts, and his eyelids droop a little, eyes shifting to the side and losing focus.

 

“Fuck, Moony,” Sirius breathes out, and he places his hands on either side of Remus’ hips. He can feel the hipbones on his fingers underneath the layer of fat, just barely, and for some inexplicable reason the thought turns him on.  _ What’s he doing to me?  _ He’s always known that attraction was an odd thing - who else could explain James’ gluttony for punishment with Evans - but finding bones sexy is nonsense. But he doesn’t get to think about it for long, because the hands he was focusing on are now moving up as Remus shifts himself, grinding.

 

They both moan.

 

After that, Remus starts really going at it, grinding up and down, and Sirius is helpless to do anything but squeeze Remus’ thighs or run his hands over Remus’ back when Remus is close enough. Somehow, even though it’s only his cock in Remus, Sirius feels like he’s getting fucked and fucking someone at the same time. The thought of Remus fucking him, coupled with the pleasure that’d already been building up since Remus took his clothes off, sends Sirius over the edge.

 

_ Fuck. _

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, shame or bashfulness are not things Sirius can be accused of ever feeling. When they meet up again, Sirius doesn’t even pretend to be embarrassed over the fact that he’d come minutes into the main event last time. Instead, he sprawls onto the bed, snacking on the grapes by the bedside table -  _ This room is odd,  _ he thinks - and waits for Remus to get undressed.

 

“So,” he asks cheerfully, around a mouthful of fruit, “Which is it this time?”


End file.
